I stumble out of bed to sound of a dog barking and panicked cries. I walk across the room to the window and look outside in time to see the mailman dive head first into his van, which takes off moments after, with my alsatian, broken chain and everything, chasing close behind.
'Good,' is my thought, 'the mail's here.'

So I almost break my legs on the staircase, but I make it downstairs anyway. I pass through the sitting room and notice the mess from the party last night. I grunt, the maid has a workload today.

By the time I get to the front door and get the mail, I'm wanting to have a good sit down, so I get to the kitchen, put the kettle on, then sit.

I'm bored at this point, so I start going through the mail. I notice that most of these posts are bills:

From: Collections Department
To: John Martin
412 WestDrive Park,
Subtle

I have already given up hope on getting anything good today, but now, here in front of me is a letter from my sweet heart, who is away on a photo shoot. I'm excited now, I even feel an erection coming on.

Just as I tear the envelope open, my kettle sings out. I don't ignore it; I put the letter on the table, turn the kettle off and make myself some steaming tea.

Now back to the table. I now have a mug of steaming tea in one hand, and I'm withdrawing the letter from the envelope with the other. With some difficulty I unfold it and start reading. The letter shocks me.

The very first words I lay eyes on in this apparently hurried communication device are:

I met someone else.

WHAT? I'm angry, confused, sad, jealous, kind of relieved--- wait scrap that, and curious all at the same time. I don't even realise that the mug of steaming tea has left my grip until I feel a sensation below, my boner was on fire!

I spring from the chair and the mug flings out of my lap and crashes into one of the cupboards, the maid really has a workload.

With the letter in my hand, I wobble to the bathroom and remove my robes. My boner is reddened and slightly swollen; how come she always does that?

I hurriedly spin the cold water tap, I wouldn't dare bother the hot one. The bathtub is filled, so I slip in.

I continued reading the letter, holding it just an inch or so above the water. I must be missing something, maybe she's quoting someone else. It turns out I didn't.

As I lie in this tub, getting insults about my childishness and the size of my boner, which is about three times its normal size now, I realize something, this water is too cold for me!

I get out, careful not to wet the letter. So up to the bedroom again, looking for something to dry me. I found a towel under a heap of dirty laundry on the floor. I start drying myself and catch a glimpse of my boner; Why couldn't I have been born that way?

After drying up, I sit on the same bed that I stumbled out of earlier. As you can imagine, my bed was in a mess. I start reading the letter again: more insults...

You're a pig.
No I'm not!

You depend on other people to clean up after you.
So not true.

I hear my front door open and close. Must be the maid. I sprang from the bed and hurried to the dresser. I put down the letter for the first time since I started reading, then I start looking for clothes: I don't want the maid to see me naked. All I find are boxer shorts.

I take one and slip it on. It's bulging, really bulging. That wouldn't be enough. My attention turns the the heaps of dirty laundry on the floor; I had no choice.

It's a few minutes later and I'm down in the sitting room, getting ready to start reading. My maid calls out from upstairs asking me why my room is such a mess.

Just do you job you old bitch! That's what my not-so-sweet heart pays you to come here every week for.

Now I turn my attention back to this letter. It really drains my self esteem. Just insults, insults about my bad lovemaking and cruel personality, I even learn some new things about myself as well.

Then the letter ends:
I'm sorry things didn't work out,
Jenna.

I hate you Jenna! Jenna you--- wait, who the hell is Jenna?

No, don't tell me... I hurry back to the kitchen. I found it, the envelope in which the letter came. Just as I thought:

From: Your wife
To: James Martin
412 WestPark Drive,
Subtle

How could I have missed that? I never pay enough attention to things. Because of this, I had my boner swollen four times over because of some sorry guy in WestPark Drive.